


and i'm captivated by you baby (like a fireworks show)

by jessicawhitly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Extended Scene, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, this is the 'Joyce and Hopper banged at the festival' fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: “What if he has a point?” he finally spits out, and Joyce’s eyes widen, her fingers dropping his as she blinks, lips parting silently as she reads his face, eyes darting over his features.“I- What are you saying, Hop?” she finally gets out, rubbing at her forehead, and Hopper starts to pace, anxious energy eating away at him.“I’m saying what if Murray fucking Bauman has a point, Joyce? What if he’s right?” his volume rises, though he tries to be mindful of the fact that they aren’t far from the main crowd of people at the festival.





	and i'm captivated by you baby (like a fireworks show)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scullymuldrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullymuldrs/gifts).

> This is a belated birthday gift for my lovely friend Heather, because this has been her favorite fic on my list of things to write! Title is from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift.

Joyce is still unusually quiet when Jim notices the shed Callahan must be using as police base camp, and he takes her hand, tugging her to the left.

“Hop, what-”

“Just- trust me, for a second,” he says, looking down at her, and she blinks, grip on him tightening in surprise for a moment before she nods, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. He knocks briefly before shoving right through the door, scaring the shit out of the kid volunteering to the point that he drops the cheese fries in his hand. “Sorry, kid. Official police business. Go take a stroll. For at least twenty minutes.”

The kid nods, a frantic look in his eyes, and rushes to gather his things before darting out the door. Joyce huffs, rolling her eyes up at Hopper, though she still hasn’t dropped his hand, which means maybe she’ll listen to what he has to say.

“Why did you drag me into this shed, Hopper?” she asks, the hand not in his falling to her hip, and he clears his throat, dragging his free hand over his face and squeezing his eyes shut as he takes a deep breath. “_Jim._”

“What if he has a point?” he finally spits out, and Joyce’s eyes widen, her fingers dropping his as she blinks, lips parting silently as she reads his face, eyes darting over his features.

“I- What are you saying, Hop?” she finally gets out, rubbing at her forehead, and Hopper starts to pace, anxious energy eating away at him.

“I’m saying what if Murray fucking Bauman has a point, Joyce? What if he’s _right_?” his volume rises, though he tries to be mindful of the fact that they aren’t far from the main crowd of people at the festival. “I tried the whole date thing and you blew me off-”

“I didn’t- wait, you think I intentionally blew you off?” Joyce’s eyebrows knit together, and he can only look at her for a moment before he resumes his pacing, agitation making all his muscles tight.

“I waited for two hours, Joyce. I bought a new shirt,” is all he says, and something seems to change in the way she looks at him, but he just keeps pacing, eyes focused on the uneven ground at his feet. “But, I’m not- it’s fine. That’s not what you want, clearly, and-”

He’s cut off by the feeling of her small hands on his face, and then her jerking him down to her level so she can plant her lips on his. Hopper’s frozen for a few seconds, too stunned to do anything, until finally he’s able to get his hands to cooperate and he wraps them around her waist, tugging her tiny frame against his.

“Murray is an idiot. And so are you,” Joyce pulls her mouth from his to pant, but her eyes are bright, and there’s a smirk playing around the corners of her lips. “But I didn’t stand you up on purpose, and I’ve never said I didn’t want this. Or you.”

A slow smile curls his lips upwards, and Joyce moves her hands up until she can run her fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face before returning to smooth over his mustache.

“We have about seventeen minutes til the kid comes back,” he murmurs, and Joyce lifts an eyebrow.

“Tell me you last longer than you did in high school,” she replies, and he scoffs, affronted.

“On a good day, yeah. The first time in a year and a half with the woman I’m stupidly head over heels for? Seventeen minutes’ll do,” he answers, and Joyce can’t help the way she flushes, his words making her duck her head. Hopper’s fingers under her chin tilt her face back up to his, and he covers her mouth with his as he grips her waist, lifting her onto the table in the center of the room. She gasps, gripping his biceps and letting him move, spreading her legs so he can settle between her thighs.

With shaking fingers she attacks the buttons of his shirt, dragging her fingers down his exposed chest and drawing a strangled groan from him that reverberates between their lips. He drags his mouth from hers, planting kisses over her jaw and down her neck as he fumbles for the hem of her shirt, dragging it up and off.

Even in the July heat, Joyce shivers as the weight of his gaze falls on her, clad in only her bra and jeans. She goes to fold her arms over her chest, self-conscious; he hadn’t seen her like this since high school, and everything looked different than it had twenty years ago. He doesn’t let her though- gently grabs her arms, tipping her backward until she’s splayed out on the wood, heart hammering against her rib cage.

“God, Joyce, you’re so-” he cuts himself off, fingertips trailing down her arms until he can skim them over her collarbone, and then the exposed swells of her breasts, making her quiver beneath him.

“Looks different than high school,” she replies, attempting to keep her tone light but knowing she’s failed when his eyebrows furrow together.

“You’re the most stunning thing about this town, Joy, and if you don’t know that by now you’re blind,” he says with an intensity that stuns her, just before he draws the cups of her bra down and begins to knead with thick, deliciously calloused fingers, causing her to tilt her head back and swallow a moan, heat darting through her like an arrow. A gasp escapes her when the wet heat of his mouth encircles her left nipple, and her hands come up to cup the back of his head, holding her to him before she nudges at him, remembering where they are.

“No time for that,” she pants, hands going for his belt buckle, fingers skimming over the obvious bulge in the denim with delight as she sits up, pushing at his chest slightly to give herself some space. With a tug and a zip Joyce has his jeans down to his knees, and she slides her hand under the waistband of his underwear, wrapping her fingers around the length of him and twisting her wrist as she pulls him out.

“Thought- _fuck_, baby- thought you said no time for that,” Hopper pants, forehead pressed to hers as she works him over, thumb swiping over the tip. Joyce grins, turning her face up until she can press her mouth to his, teeth tugging at his bottom lip.

With effort he bats her hands away, and nearly attacks the button of her own jeans, tearing them from her hips along with her panties, leaving her almost no time to toe off her tennis shoes. Her socks are still on when he wraps his hands around her thighs, spreading them, and uses one hand to rub the head of his dick over her clit.

Joyce can barely stifle the sharp cry the movement elicits, pleasure spiking through her as she clutches at him.

“I don’t- shit, Joyce, I don’t have a condom,” Hopper grits out, and Joyce shakes her head, placing her hand over his and guiding him towards where she can feel she’s dripping.

“It’s fine, just- I need you to- _yes_, like that,” she moans out as he pushes inside, a slow stretch that burns, but in a way she can handle. She sinks back against the table as his hands find her hips, giving him leverage- Joyce tugs her bra down further, twisting one nipple as the other slid to where they were now joined, fingers encircling him and squeezing. “Less than ten minutes, Hop.”

Challenge accepted, Hopper pulled out, slicking the head of his cock over her clit again before plunging back inside her, keeping her thighs apart with his palms. Joyce nearly bit through her lip to hold in the scream at the feel of him so deep inside her, hitting all the places that hadn’t been touched in years- in decades, if she was honest. She threw her head back, back arching as Hopper’s hips thrust in again and again while he groaned her name, sending shivers down her spine.

“More,” she begs, nearly a sob- she can feel her orgasm, just out of reach, curling in the pit of her stomach. Hopper moves one hand to just above her pubic bone, pulling her skin taut and changing his angle slightly, rubbing her clit in a way that felt like sparks igniting underneath her skin. “Oh, fuck- Jim, _please._”

She can feel the tears building behind her eyes, her nails digging into his forearms as he pumped into her, his eyes wild and hair loose and falling into his face, sweat dripping down his temples. Bending, he captured her mouth in a kiss, teeth sinking into her lip and mustache tickling her skin and on his next up thrust he pinched her clit, sending her over the edge in an explosion of heat and sensation.

Joyce clenched around him, feeling him shudder as he attempted to keep up his rhythm, and smoothed her hands up his arms until she could place them on his neck, licking along his jaw.

“Joyce- Joy, I’m gonna-” Jim groans, pulling back, and Joyce reaches down, wrapping her smaller hand around him as he pulls out of her, finishing him off as he kisses her desperately.

They’re breathless, mouths meeting in fleeting, barely-there kisses as they pant, staring at each other. Outside, the sound of fireworks exploding is muffled, and even further in the distance is the crackle of a megaphone, signaling Larry speaking.

“It’s been more than twenty minutes,” Joyce finally murmurs, palms against his chest. Jim lifts a hand, brushing her sweaty bangs from her forehead before dropping a kiss there.

“I’ll pay the kid twenty bucks,” he replies, and her lips quirk up into a half-smile as she allows herself a moment to press her cheek to his chest, eyes sinking shut.

“We have to find our kids,” she whispers, and his arms wrap around her, holding her against him. It’s hot- too hot for this, but they allow themselves the intimacy of it, just for a second.

“Yeah,” he finally says, and pulls back. He bends, picking her jeans up and handing them to her; she takes them, fixing her bra and watching as he pulls his own jeans back up and starts buttoning his shirt.

“I wouldn’t say no,” she tells him once they’re relatively put back together and the shed windows are propped open in an attempt to air out the smell of sex and sweat. Jim looks up at her, and her heart catches at the look in his eyes. “If you asked me on another not-date.”

His lips quirk affectionately, and she kisses him back when he bends to press his mouth to hers, her lips curled into a small, fond smile.


End file.
